


Swept Away, I'm Stolen

by homosociallyyours, rayvanfox



Series: Let the Sky Fall [4]
Category: James Bond (Movies), James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-17
Updated: 2013-09-17
Packaged: 2017-12-26 20:29:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/969967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/homosociallyyours/pseuds/homosociallyyours, https://archiveofourown.org/users/rayvanfox/pseuds/rayvanfox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Q stepped into the canteen, mug in hand, and looked around for any available electric kettles. Most were in use, but one looked more appealing than the rest, as it was currently being lifted and poured from by a rather handsome agent in a dove grey bespoke suit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swept Away, I'm Stolen

Q stepped into the canteen, mug in hand, and looked around for any available electric kettles. Most were in use, but one looked more appealing than the rest, as it was currently being lifted and poured from by a rather handsome agent in a dove grey bespoke suit. It had been a few days since Bond had spent the better half of the morning in Q Branch, first having his eyes examined and then watching and waiting as Q worked on the prototype for a new pair of heat and motion sensing glasses that would activate for his eyes only.

That morning hadn’t gone as he’d planned. Both he and Bond had alternated between flirtation and defensiveness, and it had left him wanting more, but unsure of what that “more” might actually look like. Now seemed as good a chance as any to find out. Q grabbed a prepared sandwich from the line before stepping close to Bond’s side and setting his mug down quietly. He said evenly, “Oh Bond, you're in the building today I see. Nothing too dangerous to ensnare your attentions?”

“Q. Hello. I’m in for a physical before the mission next week.” He looked mildly surprised. “My attention is ensnared by the idea that you actually do eat food. Or is it only tea today?”

“I'll be having a sandwich as well. Though I admit this is my 5th cup of tea today. Pure brain fuel, really.  
You?”

Bond eyed him with good-natured skepticism as he passed over the kettle. “Hm. I think I might have just lost a bet.”

Q smirked and shook his head. “With whom, might I ask?”

“Tanner. Should have known better.”

“You should have,” Q huffed. 

Bond leaned in slightly to speak softly to Q, as if he were giving away state secrets. “He maintains that you can function on an average of four hours of sleep a night.”

“He's not wrong on that count,” Q replied with a smile.

“I wouldn't go any lower than six. On _average._ You must collapse for twelve at a time once in awhile…” Bond probably looked as though he was thinking about Q fast asleep in bed. Because, to be fair, that was exactly the image in his head.

“Well,” Q replied, “most nights I get four or five hours, and can go for quite a long while with that much or a bit less.” He relished the look of wonder and the pleased smile on Bond’s face. “It's only when I've been up and active for a few nights running that I need to go for a long stretch.” Q raised one eyebrow just slightly, almost imperceptibly, willing Bond to notice and parry back with a bit of casual flirtation. 

Bond’s face didn’t betray a look of recognition. “I know you stay up for 36 together, or even 48 on sensitive missions.”

“Oh yes, easily,” Q said.

“Right, so an average of that....? Do start keeping a log for me, would you be a dear?” His face went from innocent curiosity to smirky charm in a moment. 

Q laughed and raised his eyebrows, feigning surprise. “Oh Bond, curious about my sleeping habits already? Should I keep a log of all my nightly activities as well? Perhaps my dailies too?” 

“Curious how you function, maybe. Wondering if you are really a robot as some of your underlings seem to believe.” He stage whispered his last sentence, conspiratorially. “But yes, letting me know of your nightly activities would corroborate or dismiss said notions quite well, thank you.” And with that he backed off as if the matter were settled.

Blushing slightly, Q wet his lips and looked at Bond with a smile. “I can assure you I'm far from a robot. Though I’ll admit that my mind does function like an advanced machine. That much is true.”

“You don't have to assure _me,_ that's another bet I have going with some others in Q branch.” 

“What's that?”

“My money's on the side of you being quite plainly and utterly human. The others are the ones who maintain your robotness. Robotity? Robot essence?”

“Robot essence,” Q replied definitively. “And I'm quite sure you've seen proof of my humanity,” he said, nudging Bond with his elbow.

Bond just looked at him, one eyebrow raised high.

“They have too, of course, though they forget it when I'm breathing down their necks on a project or pointing out the flaws in their designs.” 

“Were you ever to be in the mood to show me positive proof, I'd be happy to disabuse them of their beliefs…” He lowered his voice once again to a stage whisper. “And collect on my bet.”

Q smiled at the offer, and immediately decided to counter with one of his own. “Well then, care to join me for lunch?”

Bond smiled warmly. “My pleasure.”

“I daresay I'll spill a drop or two of tea and you won't see a short circuit,” Q said with a wink. 

Bond scoffed. “Oh please, you mock your own technical capabilities to make such a suggestion.”

Q smiled and sat down at the nearest unoccupied table. “Quite right, actually,” he said, taking a sip of tea. “You know, I did make a rather realistic robot in the form of a dog last year that was able to survive in 2 ft of water completely submerged for up to 30 minutes.”

Bond was possessed by a slow-growing, marvelling grin that proceeded to cover his entire face. “You _are_ a boy wonder, aren't you?”

Q shook his head and then rested his chin in his hand, looking wistfully into the distance for a moment as he continued. “Poor bugger was blown up within minutes of its first time out on a mission, so I'm afraid no one really got to enjoy my genius, except for me.” He leaned toward Bond and smiled conspiratorially. “And now you, Bond. Aren't you lucky?” 

His smile had not left him. “I feel very lucky. Very lucky indeed.” He attempted to school his expression slightly. “Sorry to hear about the pooch tho.”

“Quite alright,” Q said, unable to hide his pleasure at how well their conversation was going. “I could build another, but it was a vanity project, really. And I prefer things that are less showy and more useful.”

Bond did nothing to hide the fact that he was charmed by his quartermaster. “Lack of sleep aside, how _do_ you have time for these things? I know you're quick, but nevertheless…”

“Ah,” Q said. “I have an immense amount of focus.” He unwrapped his sandwich and took a small bite, chewing quickly. 

“But are you ever not working?” There was only a slight hint of an ulterior motive in how he asked the question.

“Oh. Well, no, actually,” Q said, dabbing at his mouth. “I'm working now, in fact. When I concentrate on what I desire, I can work until I attain it. It’s simple, really.” Q flashed an impish grin. 

“Sounds like me. I have that same sort of concentration, just not for things of the same ilk.”

“Is that so? What would you say your specialty is?”

“You've seen me work.” He refused to rise to bait that obvious. 

“I have,” Q said, nodding. “And you are quite skilled at attaining your goal through any means necessary.” He took another bite of his sandwich and looked at Bond thoughtfully. 

“Exactly. Which, I'll have you know, takes a massive amount of focus.” He looked deeply into Q’s eyes across the table while speaking, then broke the gaze to take a sip of his tea. “Just like in tennis. Or chess.”

“Ahh, you play chess?” Q felt a rush of excitement at the thought of a chess match with an opponent as clever and unpredictable as Bond.

“I dabble. I try to keep my hand in…” He’d been speaking metaphorically and felt a bit caught out. Not that he hadn’t learned the game, but he hadn’t been planning on adding it to his list of seduction tactics.

“I'd love a match with you.”

Bond chuckled, self-deprecatingly. “Oh no. I could not begin to match you. You'd be the kind of player that would best me with the exact moves from some famous game that I've never heard of and secretly laugh up his sleeve the whole time.”

Q smiled slyly back at Bond. 

“I‘m not bad at strategy and surveying the board, but I’m not a student of the game to that level.” Bond allowed his relief at avoiding such embarrassment to show as a charming half-smile.

“I have studied rather extensively,” Q said, somewhat pleased with himself. His gaming prowess was a point of pride. 

“Of course you have.” Bond considered Q’s humblebrag to be one of the more adorable things he’d seen in recent history and decided to indulge it. “I bet you are a whiz at 'go' as well.”

“I'm skilled at most games I choose to play, truth be told,” Q gushed. “Bit of a ringer on game nights.” He smiled at Bond, and then barely held back a giggle at himself. There were few things as geeky as being proud of one’s gaming capabilities, after all. 

Even the not-so-humble-brag, and the giggle that accompanied it, were cute enough to comment on. “I do love your lack of modesty, Q.”

“Yours amuses me as well, Bond,” Q said before having more of his sandwich and tea. His lunch was already longer than expected, but he didn’t mind.

“Touche. Though I'm glad to hear the word 'amuse' and not 'annoy' which is closer to what I expected.” He took a sip of tea before continuing, never breaking eye contact as he resumed speaking. “Unless of course your snark overtook that statement as well? The barbs are so sharp, sometimes I don't feel them enter.”

“A common problem for me, I do apologize,” Q said, still smiling but his voice turning a bit more serious. “The word was sincere.” He looked at Bond across the table and hoped that things were, in fact, going as well as he’d thought only moments before.

“Ha. Then I thank you. For the compliment, and the insight into the mine field.” 

Q gave Bond a smile. “It's rare that I find someone whose lack of modesty can rival my own. And when I do, I find that I'm rather pleased to have them around.”

Bond held back a grin at Q’s candour. “You don't find two preening peacocks too much for one room?” 

“Oh, no,” Q said shaking his head adamantly. He cocked his head and gazed at Bond thoughtfully. “I can admire another's plumage even as I glory in my own.”

Bond failed at holding back his delight at this, a smile breaking out over his face, unbidden.

Q continued, his amusement clear in his face. He leaned closer to Bond and said, a bit quietly, “really, as long as the other is able to do the same, I see no problem at all.” 

“You are a joy to behold, honestly.” Bond spoke in all sincerity.

Q chuckled, then took another bite of his sandwich, wishing he had more time to devote to lunch. 

The wall clock was in Bond’s field of vision, and he noted the time absently. Then looked again to be sure. “I have absolutely no desire to break up this very first meeting of our brand new mutual appreciation society, but I did tell Tanner I'd be back within the hour for one last blood pressure test.” Bond took another sip of tea. “Though I'm not sure it will be particularly accurate after this very enjoyable lunch.” His eyebrow couldn’t help but creep up slightly.

“Deep breaths,” Q said with a smile. “That should get everything running at the proper rate again.”

Bond mirrored Q’s smile, though his had a shade more smirk in it.

“Why not just bring out a bit of that focus you were talking about earlier? I'll do the same back in Q branch,” Q said before taking his last sip of tea. 

“And if I don't want to? I find I'm somewhat delighted with the distraction…” Bond deliberately focused all his attention on Q, waiting for an answer.

“Ah, well,” Q gestured around the canteen momentarily before looking pointedly at Bond. “I eat right here at least once a day.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice almost to a playful whisper. “And there's always more tea to be drunk whenever you're in the mood for a distraction.” 

Bond leaned close as well and matched Q’s voice. “If you are willing to drink it out of a mug that doesn't have your initial on it, I might just bring you some more after I've met with M.” He sat back again and affected a more casual demeanour. “Would that be welcome in, say, 90 minutes' time?”

“Yes, actually. That's precisely my tea drinking schedule.” Q tapped the edge of his mug gently as he looked at Bond over the table. He considered reining in his interest, but he was having entirely too much fun to bother. 

Bond hid a private smile behind his mug as he finished off his cooling tea in one gulp.

“I actually need tea every 90 minutes or I begin to shut down my systems one by one,” Q said, finally leaning back in his chair and stretching his arms behind him. 

“Ah! Which goes first?” Bond couldn’t get enough of Q’s airy playfulness. The contrast to Monday was so stark and so welcome. He’d been almost sure he’d cocked it up that morning and this turnaround was a delight.

“It’s the nonessentials first. If I'm at my desk, the feet. Then legs. Then slowly fading out all my internal processes. By which time I've called for tea and someone has brought it to me, and the day is saved.” Q rested his chin in his hand. 

“Ha. I'll keep that in mind, and if I'm late, I'll be prepared to start a foot massage immediately.” Once again Bond’s eyebrow crept skyward seemingly of its own accord.

“Hmm, you would, would you?” It was Q’s turn to raise an eyebrow at Bond. 

Bond’s other eyebrow met the height of the first one, betraying a look of mild surprise, unsure if he’d just fallen into a betting trap. It seemed as if Q had just raised the ante.

“Better be careful what you offer,” Q warned. 

Bond leaned in and lowered the pitch of his voice, not the volume. “I don't offer anything I won't follow through on. That is something you must know about me.” 

Careful to match Bond’s tone, Q replied, “I'll keep that in mind, then.” 

Bond deliberately placed his hands flat on the table, resting on either side of his mug, and made sure to maintain eye contact. “Do. There is no such thing as calling my bluff, as I am never, ever, bluffing.”

Q inhaled sharply and raised his chin slightly, looking at Bond with a mixture of flirtation and defiance. “Nor am I,” he said. He held Bond’s gaze for longer than was entirely necessary, until it felt as though any more time looking into the other man’s eyes could constitute the beginnings of a staring contest. 

Bond winked just before Q looked away. “I'll keep that information in my breast pocket.” He leaned forward on his hands and into Q’s personal space as he stood to leave, the timbre of his voice lightening in farewell. “Off I go to Tanner.”

Q smiled and gave a small wave as Bond left the canteen. He gathered his mug and binned his rubbish, all the while replaying that afternoon’s events. His exchange with Bond had left him excited but wary, and though he wasn’t entirely sure of the stakes in their game, he felt certain he didn’t want to fold just yet.


End file.
